


Stories Inspired by the Kills

by LexieCarver



Series: Stories Inspired by the Kills [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Each chapter will have it's own warning and a list of the characters in it, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-08-28 02:50:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 18,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8428546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexieCarver/pseuds/LexieCarver
Summary: Each chapter will list the pairing along with any triggers or warnings. This fic is inspired by the first song, "Doing It To Death" on the album, Ash & Ice by the Kills.





	1. What Happens in Hell, Stays in Hell

Pairing: Alastair x Dean (Delastair)

Word Count: 1,009

A/N: This was written for @hideyourdemoneyes’s @rareshipcreationschallenge with the SWF kink, tickling and the partner, @jhoomwrites. This was also written for @mrs-squirrel-chester‘s Album Fanfic Writing challenge with the song, “Doing It To Death, “ the first song on the album Ash & Ice by the Kills. This is a tad short. I didn’t want to go wayyy to far. Less is more. NO sex, tickling, sex vaguely referenced but it’s more about Alastair and Dean’s feelings for each other. Slight dub-con sort of given the pairing. I apologize for nothing.

 

[Also posted on Tumblr](http://roxy-davenport.tumblr.com/post/153805590001/what-happens-in-hell-stays-in-hell)

 

 

As much as Alastair wanted to hate Dean, he didn’t. When Dean first came to him, he took great pride in delivering pain to him for all the plans he foiled, all the demons he killed, but then something changed. He started to feel something for Dean. And he knew it would kill them both. There was no stopping it now.

 

Torture lost all meaning. Every day was the same old, same old. It was becoming boring, commonplace. All those screams no longer made Alastair happy. He longed for the days when Dean let him touch him and hold him close. Dean was happy to let Alastair do whatever he wanted if it didn’t mean torture and it felt so good to have his aching body wrapped in Alastair’s strong arms. These were the moments that Alastair lived for. His hands would venture carefully lower gently tickling Dean. He watched as the man sagged in his grip. Slowly letting his guard down. Dean closed his eyes and imagined a girl at a bar, anything but a man’s hands on his body. Without a moments’ hesitation Alastair would tickle him with more vigor, stronger, harder, relishing the sweet sounds coming out of Dean’s plump lips. They were music to his ears. But of course, he would never admit that on pain of death. He was a torturer; he didn’t enjoy laughter. But yet he did with Dean. He felt alive holding the man down and tickling him for hours. Dean didn’t think he could find happiness or peace, but laughing in an impossible situation was relaxing for him. A stress release and he found himself letting Alastair do it and shortly after, Alastair’s lips would find Dean’s and his would part, letting Alastair take control as he always needed to. He desperately needed the comfort Alastair could offer in these moments. These quiet visions revealed a level of care Dean thought he would never see in hell. These moments made the torture bearable. He told himself he wasn’t bi. He was just going with the flow. He was doing what he had to do to survive. When he got out of hell, he would figure out what this was. It had been a while since anyone touched him and the juxtaposition of the torture he received with these very hands just made the pleasure that much greater.

 

 

Alastair thought he could go back to torture but it got harder the more he felt Dean’s body under his, the more he pulled such sweet sounds of pleasure from his muscled body. He could close his eyes and hear Dean moaning, begging for him. Every night he would put Dean to bed looking upon him with fondness. He would tell Dean, “That’s all for today, little hunter. Sleep. Rest. A whole new day of torture and death, await you, same old same old.“ But when morning came around it was harder for Alastair to plunge the knife into Dean’s soft flesh. Alastair started to give Dean impossible choices forcing him to say he would torture others, anything not to have to hurt him. How pathetic is it when a torturerer wants a partner instead of a victim? But Dean wouldn’t. The hunter was too moralistic for his own good choosing to suffer rather than make others suffer. Admirable but Alastair couldn’t keep this up. Alastair was slowly losing his mind. He didn’t want to torture Dean anymore.

 

“Isn’t this getting old, Alastair. Aren’t we doing this to death? I’m not saying yes.”

 

“Little hunter, you have to. There is no other option for us. We need to get out of this cycle and more forward.”

 

“Never.”

 

“We’ll see.”

 

Finally after what felt like an eternity, Dean said yes. Alastair shoved him hard against the wall and planted his lips on Dean’s. Dean was shocked but kissed him back with just as much passion as Alastair had. Confusion was written all over Dean’s face. Alastair withdrew his lips before slowly bending down and licking Dean’s ear. He watched the man shiver. Smirking, Alastair nibbled Dean’s ear. He watched the hunter close his eyes. He listened to Dean’s breathing pick up. He moved his mouth so it hovered over Dean’s ear as he whispered to him, “You’re mine now Dean Winchester.” He didn’t miss the shiver that ran down Dean’s body. Alastair took a strand of hair out of Dean’s eyes.

 

“My brave little hunter. Give in to pleasure and let me show you a whole new world. The things the two of us could do together. I have so much to show you, to teach you.”

 

Alastair moved back from Dean walking confidently over to his torture table grabbing his favorite knife and handing it to Dean. His eyes gleefully turned to Dean who looked pained but determined. God he hoped Sam would figure out a way to rescue him soon.

 

“Let’s start with the proper way to carve flesh shall we?” 


	2. Heart of a Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Crowley x Juliet
> 
> Word Count: 632 
> 
> Prompt: This was done for @mrs-squirrel-chester‘s Album Fanfic Writing Challenge. I picked the album “Ash & Ice” by the Kills. I’m totally calling dibs on that album now!!! This aesthetic and drabble was written for the song “Heart of a Dog,” which is number 2 on the album.
> 
> A/N: The reader is Juliet, Crowley’s Hellhound. SMUT, heavy BDSM, Pet play (collar and chain)….because I have no shame. ;). NSFW aesthetic below.

 

 (aesthetic made by me)

 

 

[Also posted on Tumblr](http://roxy-davenport.tumblr.com/post/151669037101/heart-of-a-dog)

 

 

You were loyal to your master above all else. You would step in front of a bullet for him. You never went against him even if it hurt you to do so. You were loyal to a fault. You could read Crowley’s body language and knew when he was mad or needed you to comfort him. You were his attack dog and his first line of defense.

 

Mostly you were a hellhound but on the rare occasions when you could shape shift into human form, you could show Crowley what he truly meant to you.

 

Crowley was deliciously kinky and you couldn’t get enough. When you were in human form Crowley liked to engage in pet play with you. And you loved taking orders from your master, showing him how far you would go to prove your undying love for him. No demand too weird, too far.

 

You closed your eyes as he closed the collar tight around your neck attaching a chain to it. He yanked the chain and you crawled over to him kissing his shoes showing him the respect he always demanded. You looked up at him with pleading eyes. You desperately wanted to suck his cock. He yanked the chain again pushing your head back.

 

You crawled up on his pants opening your mouth expectantly. Crowley smiled down at you as he guided his cock into your mouth. You moaned around his cock as he grabbed your hair hard face fucking your mouth in no time. He thrust in and out as fast as he could, each thrust making his cock go all the way down his throat.

 

You loved being able to make Crowley happy. You let Crowley do whatever he wanted to you. You felt his cock pulse and then tasted his warm salty cum. You swallowed all of it like a good girl. You even licked his cock clean for good measure.

 

You smiled up at him begging him to use you more. To make you his again. He yanked the chain again and he nearly threw you to the bed face down. His fingers dove into your pussy twisting inside of you finding you pleasantly wet. He quickly took his fingers out.

 

He kissed the back of your neck as he thrust his entire cock into your pussy in one go. Crowley grabbed onto your hips for leverage. He didn’t leave any time for you to adjust to his size. You loved being used by your King. His own little toy.

 

He thrust roughly into you with all of his strength rocking the bed violently. Your head fell onto the sheets in front of you. Crowley took one hand off your hips and held your head down on the bed as he kept thrusting into you with everything he had.

 

You desperately tried to hold onto the sheets in front of you. You were mewling and keening and he knew you were close already. His hand moved down your body as he spanked your ass harder and harder as you screamed out his name nearly shattering apart as you came. You closed your eyes smiling at the euphoric feeling coursing through you.

 

Crowley’s hand dove to your hips as he pistoned his cock inside you a few more times coming with a deep guttural growl of your name, Juliet, on his lips. He smiled against your hair before slowly pulling out of you.

 

He snapped his fingers cleaning you both up. Crowley unlatched the chain but kept the collar around your neck. He held your body tightly against his. You laid in his arms watching the embers from the fireplace feeling completly satisfied, safe and truly at home in your lover’s arms.

 

“I love you Crowley…master.”

 

“I love you too Juliet. Always and forever.”


	3. Hard Habit To Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Dean x Reader
> 
> Word Count: 1,522
> 
> Beta: Huge thanks to @seenashwrite
> 
> A/N: This was written for @mrs-squirrel-chester’s Album Challenge. I choose the album, “Ash & Ice” by the Kills which is a hella angsty album. Whoops. I love angsty indie rock. This was written for the third song on the album, “Hard Habit to Break.” This is a bit deep which I’m blaming on the album. :) This is told from Dean’s POV.

 (Aesthetic made by me)

 

[Also posted on Tumblr](http://roxy-davenport.tumblr.com/post/156731455555/hard-habit-to-break)

 

I knew that I could never have a normal life. Intellectually, I knew that. It was too dangerous. I mean look what happened to Dad, Mom and then Sam’s girlfriend, Jess. So how could I willingly choose to put the woman I love through that? What kind of monster would that make me? Mom and Jess both died in agony, burning on frickin’ ceilings. Come on. Yeah, we ganked the bastard who did it, but so what? There will always be some other black eyed scum around to take away the love of my life.

 

Demons have it out for Winchesters. I understand the hatred toward my family. Hell, how many demons have Sam and I taken out just this year? Of course they’d hold a grudge, and that’s why I shouldn’t get entangled with anyone.

 

When I get the itch, I sleep with women at bars. I let them know upfront that it’s one night. They’re okay with it; I’m okay with it. There are no strings, no drama. I move on, and I don’t think about the girl. She’s safer that way. No real connections. At least, that’s what I’d always tell myself, but then… But then, why? Why can’t I leave her?

 

I mean, I go through the same motions every time. I come into town every few months. I tell her goodbye and I actually believe it every time. I believe that this will be the time I’ll be strong enough to truly leave. Then I can’t. I can never really leave her. She’s all I think about, all I want. I try and sleep her away with other girls but it never works. I call out her name when I orgasm more often than not.

 

When it’s over, when I’m done with the girls on the side, I close my eyes and I see her face, that sly smile she gives me when she’s half-awake. The way she stretches like a cat, arching her back and presenting her perfect breasts to my lustful gaze. How she turns to me and says my name. The way she says it half-sleepy, half-reverently, almost like a prayer. The sound that not only makes me instantly hard but make me fall in love with her more. I hold her tight for a long time, letting my mind go blank. I am reassured in her touch. I feel whole in her arms. And all the while, I know I’m putting her at risk, just by being close to her. If any monsters found out how much I cared, her head would be on the chopping block; maybe literally. But I can’t give her up. She’s in my blood, in my mind. As selfish as this may sound, we belong together.

 

The months when I will myself to stay away are hell on me. I break down. I cry, I scream, I get angry. I’m really not okay without her. Nothing else matters when I’m like this.

 

I don’t have my heart in the hunt. Sometimes, I’m even reckless. The alcohol tastes horrible, the women don’t feel the same, and I don’t feel the same. I feel guilt-ridden and horrible every time I flirt with anyone else; much less touch another woman.

 

I’m gruffer with Sammy and shit, he doesn’t deserve that. I just get so angry with him. I want to apologize but I mean, how would that go? I can’t let him know why I’m acting this way. So what lie would explain all this? The less people that know about her; the safer she is. Or am I keeping her quiet because I want to keep her a secret? Because I want her all to myself? Why is love so confusing? And for the record? I didn’t want to fall in love with her, it just happened.

 

 

Every time I leave, I see the heartbreak in her eyes. Every time, she wants to ask me to stay. I know she wants to know why I always have to leave but I can’t tell her, and somehow she never asks. She just looks at me pointedly as I leave. I want to be happy. I want the white picket fence life, I do, and that’s why I keep coming back. She’s the one habit I can’t break. I will always keep coming back.

 

It may not be fair to either of us, but she hasn’t kicked me out. She hasn’t moved on or changed the locks. She simply opens the door with a big smile, grabbing me and drawing me into her arms. She gives me the most passionate kiss and the sex is dynamic, wild, uninhibited, a true show of our passion for each other. Maybe one day, I’ll have the balls to either marry her or finally leave her.

 

 

But right now, for tonight and tomorrow, all I need is her. She is my drug and I can’t get enough. She is the air I breathe. I know it’s reckless and stupid to come to her when I’m broken and wounded. Even Sammy wonders where I’m going. He’s calling me, but I don’t care. This was a rough hunt and I need her. I need her to heal me, body and soul. I need her hands on my body, reassuring me that I deserve to be loved by her.

 

I stand on her doorstep bleeding onto her mat, tears in my eyes, worried that she’ll reject me, but what does she do? She ushers me inside. Her soft hands get to work on my wounds. Never once does she ask questions. She just looks at me, silently begging me to stop doing whatever has left me in this state. And in this moment, I wish I could say yes. I want to say yes. That look of fear and worry on her face, that look destroys me.

 

I send a quick message to Sam, so he knows I’m still alive and well. I promise to explain. What I’ll say, how much I’ll divulge to him, I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t quit her, ever.

 

She fixes my wounds and the worry is replaced by a smile as we cuddle silently. There’s no need for any words to be said. She’s mine and I’m hers. For whatever happens next.

 


	4. Bitter Fruit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Crowley x Rowena, sort of Crowley x Reader
> 
> Word Count: 1,300
> 
> A/N: This is a bit angsty about Crowley’s dysfunctional relationship with his mother. The reader is in it but it’s mainly an exploration of Crowley and his feelings. This was written for @mrs-squirrel-chester Album Challenge. I picked Ash & Ice by the Kills. This was written for “Bitter Fruit,” which is the fourth song on the album. I will post a link soon to a collection on AO3 of all the fics written from songs on the aforementioned album.

(Not mine. I found this on Tumblr. Source: ohmysupernatural)

 

 

[Also posted on Tumblr](http://roxy-davenport.tumblr.com/post/156337796746/bitter-fruit)

 

 

“This should be sufficient for the wee lad over yonder, aye?”

 

“Three pigs for him? Chubby boy, ain’t he?”

 

“He a bit chubby, yes, but he can be useful to you. He’s a hard worker and this way he’ll learn a trade.”

 

“Mom?”

 

“Hush, Fergus.”

 

“You want me to teach him how to be a tailor?”

 

“I would be nice for the lad to have a purpose. But he’s your problem now.”

 

“Mom, where are you going?”

 

“Hush, boy. I’ll be right back. Just stay with these people here.”

 

Rowena nodded her head and left Crowley there yelling and crying after her. Three pigs was all it took for the man to take him away.

 

 

Crowley hadn’t seen her since that time. His mother told him that his father was someone in one of the orgies she attended. That makes a young boy feel great, doesn’t it? Discarded and an accident.

 

In the following years, he learned that love was a weakness and pointless. If his own mother couldn’t love him, what hope would he have for anyone else. He was a horrible person and didn’t deserve love. Once he dared to love someone and married her, but she died two years into the marriage. If she had lived now, she would have been saved with all the modern medicines that are now available. Her death was the final straw for Crowley. Her death left him devastated and he had no more love to give.

 

Crowley had to blame someone for all the rage, isolation and pain he felt at his wife’s death. And sadly the only thing near him was his son, Gavin. Crowley tried to make everything hard for him. He actively hated Gavin mainly because he was a constant reminder that the one woman who loved him, had died. Every time he saw Gavin’s face, he remembered hers. The boy had her eyes, those eyes that looked at him with fear and anger. Gavin grew up with a father who could care less for him and would just drink away his life and sleep with loose women. Crowley didn’t want to sleep around in whorehouses but he had urges and there was no point in love so what was a man to do. Drinking dulled the pain until there was nothing left but a hollow shell of a broken man. He welcomed death and when he made the deal for a bigger dick he was drunk. At the time, he thought it quite important. He wanted to be the biggest John ever – please all the whores in the whorehouse. Male ego is a precious thing.

 

Through all the torture in hell, all Crowley could think of was how his mother treated him so horribly. His anger at her fueled him to survive. No matter what Alastair did to him, he could take it. Crowley worked his way through the ranks, not caring whom he was stepping over. He was happy to align himself with Lilith. The other demons hated him but he had Lilith’s protection so he didn’t have to worry. No demons would mess with him now. He didn’t really care about her; he was only after power because if he had power then he would never feel afraid, or angry, or weak again.

 

The plan worked well. Then the Winchesters got involved and things worked even better. They killed off almost all of his competition and now Crowley could take the throne. He was now the ruler of Hell. He had everything. He controlled so many souls and had quite the power boost. The Winchesters were a constant thorn in his side but finally he was happy. Nothing could touch him.

 

 

Well, that is until the Winchesters tried to close the gates of hell and made him into a blood junkie. Not the finest moment in his life, especially since feelings long since dead came back – feelings of loss, abandonment and hatred. He realized in those moments that the hatred he felt for Gavin, the horrible way he treated him, was because his mom treated him the same way. It was a cycle of violence. All she ever gave him was bitter fruit. In those moments, he wished that his wife could hold him and tell him it would be okay. She had always kept his darkness at bay. He was sweet and good-natured with her. He could have had a happy life and would never have been cruel to Gavin. She would have tempered him.

 

In his weak moments when he needed human blood and companionship the most, he dared to trust a female demon and was betrayed. She was just a spy for Abaddon. Again he was alone with only himself to trust.

 

It’s funny how many things you can think of in five minutes. How many memories come flooding back to you as you see someone.

 

Crowley stepped closer into the dungeon not believing his eyes. He could swear that his mother was there and next to her chained on the wall was you – a woman with a striking resemblance to his wife.

 

Crowley tried his best to keep his face bland but he knew he revealed something to you. He could see it in your eyes. The very eyes his wife had. He hoped his mother didn’t see the interaction between you two because she would use it against him. He would have to let you go eventually but right now all he wanted was to talk with you. He motioned for his guard to release you and walked into your chambers looking you over carefully for any damage.

 

Could life be offering him a second chance? If so he would do anything to get it right this time.


	5. Days of How and Why

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Dean x Reader, previously Cain x Reader
> 
> Word Count: 1,877
> 
> My beta: @raspberrymama. Thanks you so much for being my beta and for brainstorming with me. I was sooo stuck on where to go with this. You’re a lifesaver.
> 
> A/N: ANGST, depression, grief. I blame it all on the album I choose. This was written for @mrs-squirrel-chester’s Album Challenge with the song, Days of How and Why, which is the fifth song on the album, “Ash & Ice” by the Kills. The lyrics are in bold and the flashbacks are in italics.

[Also on Tumblr](http://roxy-davenport.tumblr.com/post/156927501281/days-of-how-and-why)

 

“Could this list be any longer Sam? Organic apples, really?”

 

“Apples nowadays have quite a lot of pesticides, Dean. It’s the smart move.”

 

You tried not to laugh at the bitchface Dean was giving Sam. Shrugging your shoulders, you took the list and headed to the garage. Dean started the impala and in twenty minutes you would be in front of the biggest grocery store for thirty miles.

 

Dean was about to rock out to AC/DC but you placed your hand over his so he couldn’t press the button.

 

“I know how you feel about the healthy food Sammy, and I dig it, so how about you buy all the fattening but divinely delicious products.”

 

“Deal.” He looked over at you and kissed your forehead and then boom, blaring music. Man, was Dean predictable.

 

The second you got to the grocery store, you split up. You didn’t particularly want to hear Dean bellyaching the entire time about the price of apples.

 

If anyone asked you you’d say you had had depression but you were okay now. You dealt with the complexities of your lover dying. You weren’t guilty or in denial about your lingering feelings, right? Nope, you were completely okay. But it seemed the universe wanted to convince you otherwise. Your brain kept on making weird associations; from apples to the Garden of Eden and then to Lucifer who made the Knights of Hell. You immediately stopped your brain from going further down the path. Why was today a bad day? Why the associations today?

 

You honestly thought you were okay but grief is a strange thing. You had been with Cain for seven years and it had only been two years since his death. Dean was an amazing boyfriend and he was always there for you. He always reacted immediately and gave you the comfort and support you needed any time, no questions asked. He was your rock, your support system. Which is a bit weird considering that he was the one who killed Cain. But if you were being truthful here, Dean killed the monster Cain became and not the Cain you fell in love with.

 

In the beginning Cain was a good man, a loving man. He was always gentle with you despite being named the father of murder. You lived with Cain in his cabin away from prying eyes, away from hunters and demons and any distractions. It was just the two of you. It was calming being close to nature with the man you loved. You made dinner together and told each other everything about your lives. You learned a hell of a lot about bees including how to care for them. The sex was gentle and loving and he always made sure you came at least three times before he came. He resisted the mark for you but he couldn’t resist forever. You just wished you had had more time with him.

 

Unfortunately, you were never really good at dealing with grief. You preferred not to dwell on sad thoughts and repressed a lot of your emotions so it was reasonable to assume they might pop up at random times.

 

The aisles were always so small in supermarkets and predictable you bumped right into two shoppers. They were unfazed by it and continued talking rather loudly.

 

“Yeah that’s a Cain and Abel story if I heard one. What a rivalry between two brothers.”

 

You froze in the aisle when you heard his name and everything came flooding back to you.

 

_“Cain, you don’t have to do this.”_

_“I do.”_

_“No, please. I’m begging you. Please. Don’t let the mark control you. You’re better than that.”_

_“I have to do this. I have to destroy everyone in my bloodline.”_

 

_“Everyone?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Even the children? What’s wrong with you? People are given free will. They can choose to rise above any “cursed blood.”_

_“Like I did.”_

_“Yes exactly.”_

 

_“I’m tired Y/N. Really tired. The mark has been calling to me everyday. I just can’t ignore it anymore.”_

 

_“Apparently Collette was better at getting you to stop than I am.”_

 

_“Don’t you dare bring her into this.”_

_“Saint Collette, right? Clearly, you loved her more than me.”_

 

_The sound of Cain’s hand hitting your check was the only thing heard in that moment. The chiming of the grandfather clock and the creaking floorboards were forgotten in that moment. You drew back from him, tears in your eyes as you walked out of the door. If he wanted to be a monster, let him. You refused to stand by and watch it happen._

 

_“Wait. Wait. I-I’m sorry. I just…”_

_“No. Cain. No. I don’t forgive you and I’m not staying to watch you destroy everything we built and lose yourself in sadism. You don’t love me like you loved her. Maybe losing her the way you did made you not able to really love anyone else but I’m not strong enough to bring you back from the brink. If I stay, I’ll destroy myself trying to help you. I can’t do that. I love you Cain, but the man I choose to be with is already dead.”_

_You were leaving him to the wolves. There was no hope that he could be anything better than a killer without you but it wasn’t fair for you to stay and damn yourself either._

 

You were in the supermarket bending down with a hand on the aisle to support yourself. You felt numb, your chest hurt and your mind wouldn’t stop associating with Cain. You turned to your left and saw McCain food in the freezer section. Fries. Cain’s name on fries? How banal. You walked over to the freezer on shaky legs dropping the food you collected on the floor. Your hand went on the freezer door and you cried.

 

_The Winchesters needed help, Intel on Cain and so they forced their way into your house desperate to get you to help them. You had no idea how they realized there was a connection between you and Cain but they had. They took you with them to show you the damage Cain was doing. You agreed that he had to be stopped and so you joined them._

_However, when the time came to kill him, you couldn’t let it happen. You ran down the stairs yelling at Dean. You burst into the room and Castiel had to hold you back as Dean killed Cain with the first blade. You screamed and screamed. Knowing this was your fault. You had willingly worked with them, helped them to find him. And even worse, his last words to you were, “I’m sorry.”_

_Cain was the villain in the piece so why were you trying to save him. It was a rational argument but every time you felt guilty. Guilty for leaving and guilty for doing what you had to do to save everyone else. He trusted you and you betrayed him. He may have said, “I’m sorry” but you wished you could have told him you were sorry._

 

 

People in the grocery store were staring at you crying over freezer food. There was quite an audience gathering. You vaguely heard Dean’s voice calling you but you were still lost in the memory of Cain. Dean kept calling all over the store until he came to the crowd.

 

Like a linebacker, he pushed everyone out of the way to get to you. He saw the food on the ground and instantly dropped what he collected. He ran over to you and turned you to face him. You slapped him.

 

“You killed him,” You whispered in a pained voice.

 

Dean knew exactly what was happening. He looked over and saw the Cain food. His eyes softened as he pulled you into himself.

 

“I know, sweetie. He loved you until the mark was too much for him. He held off for seven years. That’s a lot longer than I ever could. Let’s get out of here. Come on baby.”

 

You pulled away from him. “I’m sorry. I.I…” you began.

 

“I know, baby. You’re having a bad day. I understand. No anger, no resentment. I just want to make you feel better. Come on, let’s get out of here and talk.”

 

“What about your pie?”

 

“You’re more important.”

 

You were shaking, tears streaming down your face. Dean held your hand every so often on the drive back home.

 

“I’m sorry I slapped you, Dean.”

 

“It’s forgotten, baby. What happened though? Was it seeing Cain on freezer food?”

 

“That helped sure but it was a passing remark from someone. They were comparing something to Cain and Abel.”

 

“I’m so sorry.”

 

“I thought I was doing better Dean.”

 

“Grief is a strange thing, Y/N. This is just a bad day. But I love you and I will stand by you through anything. I promise you that when we get back, I will do whatever it takes to put a smile back on that face. That’s my job as a boyfriend, to take care of you.” Dean continued, “You looked dazed in there, like you were lost in a memory or something. What were you seeing?”

 

“My last conversation with him as a girlfriend and then, ever.”

 

“Oh, wow.”

 

“Yeah. He needed to be stopped though. He was turning into a monster, killing innocent people and if it wasn’t you who did it, we would have never met. And I would be very upset about that. You’re the best thing that ever happened I have to learn to be okay with this.”

 

“It doesn’t happen overnight.”

 

“I know. I’m going to see a therapist this week. Using an alias, of course.”

 

“Sounds like a great idea. I’ll help you look for names.”

 

Dean carried you out of the car and into your joint bedroom, ignoring Sam. He laid you down gently and sang, “Hell’s Bells” to you trying to lull you to sleep. He knew how you loved to hear him sing and Hell’s Bell was shared favorite between you and Dean. He kissed you on your forehead and watched you sleep; committing himself to do whatever was necessary to get you through this difficult time.


	6. Turning My Tear Drops Into Death Threats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader
> 
> Word Count: 1,993
> 
> My beta: @raspberrymama 
> 
> A/N: This was written for @mrs-squirrel-chester’s Album Challenge. I picked the album, “Ash & Ice.” This was written for the song, “Let It Drop” which is sixth on the album. Angsty and sassy. The lyrics are in bold and the flashbacks are in italics.

[Also on Tumblr](http://roxy-davenport.tumblr.com/post/156896671931/turning-my-tear-drops-into-death-threats)

 

You woke up with such a start; you almost fell off the bed. Why was your alarm so damn loud? And why did you think waking up at 8 am when you had no work, was such a bright idea? Groaning, you went back to sleep and what happened? Your handler called you. It was one of those days. What was the saying, “No rest for the wicked?” Groaning you pulled your phone out and clicked “answer,” barely conscious. Your hair fell in front of your face muffling your voice. Your cheek was squished into the pillow as you mumbled, “Hello.”

 

“Well don’t we sound chipper this morning?”

 

“Mmm… is it a job?”

 

“In fact, it is.”

 

Slowly you sat up with a smirk on your face. Your voice still a little gravely from tiredness.

 

“Who’s the target?”

 

“I’m not sure you’ll want to do it.”

 

“Do I have to guess?”

 

“Dean Winchester.”

 

That had you out of bed in seconds, fury in your eyes.

 

  _“Wow that was-.”_

 

_“Great sex, yeah it was. Becoming a demon was one of the best things to happen to me. It’s been fun but-.”_

 

_“You’re pushing me out?”_

_“Demons don’t snuggle sweet cheeks.”_

_“All you do is sing karaoke horribly and have sex. What are you kicking me out for? What is so damn important?”_

_“Dean I-.” Crowley stated._

_“Oh, even better. The King of Hell gets to see me naked and he’s still looking?”_

 

_Crowley clears his throat trying to look anywhere but your body. You grab your clothes hugging them around yourself._

_“Anything?” You were hoping that Dean would continue talking to you. Maybe even tell Crowley to leave and I don’t know? Care a little? But Demon Dean only cared about himself, clearly. He was all hearts and roses to get you in bed and once he came, your usefulness was exceeded._

 

_“We’re finished here, Darlin’.”_

 

_You grabbed your clothes and ran out of there like you’ve been shot. You missed your caring and sensitive Dean. The one who made love to you and didn’t just threw you down on a bed and have his way with you. Sometimes after a tough job you needed a little rough handling. Marks and bruises reminded you that he was yours and that you were alive but today you didn’t want marks. You wanted love. He was always so cold. You wanted your old Dean back but it looked like he was never coming back._

 

“Where and when?” You asked your handler.

 

You had shed enough tears for Dean.

 

“That was fast. I thought you were-.”

 

“What exactly is the job?

 

“The offer is from someone named Crowley for three million.

 

“Crowley?”

 

“Yes, he said you’d know him and that his men were unreliable and inept at carrying out his orders.”

 

“I see.”

 

“Yes, well he wants us to kidnap Dean and bring him back to his brother. How messed up is that? All that money to kidnap someone.”

 

“If you knew how dangerous Dean was you’d understand. Consider it done by the end of the day.”

 

You hung up before you handler could ask you any more questions. You didn’t want to think about anything else but the task at hand. Now Dean was a task. It helped to think of him like that. You never told him what you did so you had the advantage. He would underestimate you. He thought you were a hunter but you weren’t. No, you were the person they sent in when hunters and demons lost hope. You killed people, saved people, kidnapped others, stole things, got dirt on people, helped lawyers win cases, etc. You tried to stay out of the moral questions and do you job.

 

 

_You walked in happy that he had texted you after all this time only to find him kissing the bartender. Not only was Demon Dean an ass but apparently he was also a cheater. Fan-fucking-tastic. You threw a glass at his head. Sure it wouldn’t kill him but it would sure as hell get his attention._

 

_“Well hello there, lover. And who do we have here?_

 

_You could smell her from here. He was cheating on you with his own kind, a demon. Their black eyes bore into yours. You just raised your eyebrows. Was that supposed to be intimidating? Please. Amateurs. They should have seen how angry you were. How your tears drops had turned to death threats. Nothing could assuage you. They shouldn’t have tested you._

 

_“Y/N.” Dean said mildly assumed, the corners of his lips turned up in a smirk._

 

_“It remembers my name.”_

_“Why are you here? I thought I made things pretty clear.”_

_“Are Demons usually stupid?_

 

_The female growled. She growled at you. Oh, she had to go. Dean wasn’t hers. Truthfully Dean wasn’t anyone’s._

_“You texted me, Dean.”_

_“I did no such thing precious.”_

_“Well I got a text from you so if you didn’t do it. Then…. did you do it Crowley?_

_It was so silent in the bar that you could hear a pin drop._

 

_“I wanted you to see what Dean is now and -.”_

_“I saw what he was before. But now I can add cheat to the list of his wonderful attributes. Hey Bitch,” you yelled, turning to the demon woman._

 

_You raised your gun and shot her dead with the only demon-killing bullet you had. You had to trade a ridiculous amount of stolen occult items for that. You postured like you were tough but really you had no more ammo and a hell of an angry Dean staring back at you. You smirked at Crowley and Dean and walked right out of the door speeding off to your hotel. Dean looked for you of course, but you’ve been doing jobs since you were 17. Being invisible was your specialty - otherwise you’d have gotten caught a long time ago._

 

You knew you would eventually have to face him again and today looked like the day.

 

 

You went to the magical black-market. A witch owed you, which gave you access to the special key you needed to get in. You wanted to get in and out as quickly as possible. Word on the street was there a powerful witch by the name Rowena around here and you really didn’t want to get in the middle of whatever she was doing. Plus, you kind of hated witches - you never meet one that wasn’t evil or a megalomaniac.

 

You drove all day not stopping for anything other than to eat and relieve yourself. You drank coffee and Red Bull to stay awake. You got here on four hours of sleep; at 11 PM outside the very fucking bar where you shot his female demonic “associate.” Some men never learn.

 

 

You walked in like a sheriff in the Wild West, your boots echoing on the polished floor. Of course, Sam was there telling his brother some touchy feely I-can-save-you, I-love-you shit. You glared at Dean and both men felt the tension in the room rise. Then all hell broke loose. Some idiot human burst in throwing knockout gas into the room complicating everything.

 

You acted fast ignoring Dean and making sure that Sam got out. You ran to him and nearly dragged the behemoth outside. You quickly checked to see if Sam was okay and then walked around to the dumpsters. Great, the stupid human thought he was a match for Demon Dean. All you saw was a lot of posturing, threats and a hell of a lot of punches from Dean. Was Dean really worth saving? Was there anything to save? You reached behind your leather jacket and shot the human in the neck was a tranq dart.

 

Before Dean could react you grabbed your gun and shot a devil’s trap bullet into his shoulder. He stared at you in shock as he slowly slumped down. You looked over and saw that Sam was a little groggy from the smoke. You couldn’t leave Dean so you’d have to stay here and make small talk until Sam was good to go.

 

“You shot me.”

 

“You’re getting slow in your old age Dean.”

 

“You’re not a hunter, are you?”

 

“You never loved me, did you?”

 

“When did you become so feisty?”

 

“Right around the time you became a dick.”

 

“I do have an amazing dick.”

 

“I’ve had better.”

 

You got a lot of satisfaction from Dean’s angry look and his growl.

 

“If you can’t love-.”

 

“Demon’s don’t love.”

 

“I didn’t finish did I? Anyway, if you can’t love then why are Sam and I still alive?”

 

“You make life interesting.”

 

“I know old Dean loved me and I loved him very much.”

 

Dean raises his eyebrow but says nothing.

 

“Does the new and improved model feel anything for me?”

 

You looked at Dean carefully trying to look for any crack in his perfect facade but you didn’t see any. The Mark was more powerful than you thought. Well, that was a bummer. The world didn’t need anymore assholes.

 

“And we’re back to this again. Look, you got an incredible body and you feel amazing but-.”

 

“You’re an ass. Good to know. Everyone’s stuck with the newest crappy model. I have no idea why Sam has any illusions. Is the old Dean even in there? He should just kill you and save the world more heartache

 

“Oh come now. We had our moments.”

 

“One of my top moments with you was killing your girlfriend. I’m so very sorry you had to use your hand for how many nights? How long did it take to replace her?”

 

“Four days.”

 

“Wow. Four whole days. You are losing your touch. My Dean could have gotten a girl the next day.”

 

You heard Sam’s footsteps approaching the both of you.

 

“There’s nothing left to save Sammy,” you call out behind you as you grab Dean’s wrists and put them in devil’s trap handcuffs.

 

“Where did you get those?”

 

“I’m a resourceful girl.”

 

You nodded to Sam quickly putting on your sunglasses to hide the tears at losing Dean all over again. You wished you could remember the happy times but the cold cruelty of Demon Dean wiped out all the good memories leaving the painful ones in their wake. You should have killed Dean, but through all the rage and anger that you hid with sarcasm, Sam deserved a family. After everything that he had been through, he deserved a happy ending. You had to let go of Dean but the anger, the death threats swirling in your head, well they would do nicely for your new assignment two days away. You had to kill a faction of demons next.

 

“Chicago here I come.”


	7. I'm a Believer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Crowley x Reader
> 
> Word Count: 1,876
> 
> A/N: This was written for @one-shots-supernatural‘s10k Follower celebration Challenge with the prompt, marriage. This was also written for @d-s-winchester’s Blog Anniversary Song Challenge with the song, Sleep Without You. This was also written for @mrs-squirrel-chester‘s album Fanfic Writing Challenge. I picked the album Ash & Ice by the Kills and the song, Hum For Your Buzz, which is the 7th song on the album, inspired this fic. This is from Crowley’s perspective. Sex is referenced vaguely. A giant pile of Crowley fluff. :)

[Also posted on Tumblr](http://roxy-davenport.tumblr.com/post/154892825181/im-a-believer)

 

I had never wanted a Queen or anyone by my side. I figured I didn’t need it. Human emotions are a messy thing that I would rather avoid. But that was before I met Y/N. She was a ray of sunshine in my dark world. I had never imagined she would date me much less marry me. I was overjoyed that she agreed to be my Queen.

  

To my followers and the world, I had to appear like the cruel uncaring demon I was before her. But truthfully she changed me little by little from the second we started dating. We’ve been married for years now and every time I see her I feel something– love. I want to protect her every second. She brings out all the sweetness I didn’t know I possessed. With her I want to do better, be a better man. Y/N understands that I have to wear a mask when talking to my demons. She doesn’t try to change me; she takes me as I am.

 

Y/N is an amazing human who knows that I’m the King of hell and doesn’t care. I told her after a month of dating. Her response was, “You don’t choose who you, love; love chooses for you.” Every time she enters a room my heart beats faster and my eyes shine with such love and devotion. I would do anything she asks. I run to her no matter what is happening in hell, if I even have an inkling she may be sad or in trouble. She is the love of my life. I’m a believer, love is real, I deserve it and I have it.

 

Sex with Y/N is very fast and hurried. Every single time is like magic. Her body writhing under mine, egging me on as I grab her hair and tell her all the filthy things I’ll do and how she makes me feel. How I want to fuck her every second of the day. She always wears my favorite black lace panties. I love them on her. She body conforms to the lace and makes her breasts look so delicious and perky. She’s just the right kind of kinky and doesn’t shy away from being my good little sub and trusting her master to give her the kind of pleasure she could only dream of. When she says my name, it’s like a prayer.

 

On the rare occasion we don’t include any kink and instead we just make love. I hold her and shower her with kisses all over her body. I whisper qualities and things I love about her. The thrusts are slower and I focus more on her facial features. I hang on every moan she makes. I never feel more connected with Y/N than in these moments.

 

I close my eyes slowly controlling my breaths as I white knuckle my throne. I can hear her giggles and kisses as she goes lower, lower. And yep I’m tenting in front of my court with a demon babbling in front of me. I shift awkwardly in my chair rushing too fast to my phone when it vibrates. My thoughts are always on her no matter what I’m doing. Usually though I have a bit more control.

 

[Text]: I’ll be out late again. Sorry, baby. Out with the girls. Gabby came and we haven’t seen each other in such a long time…. Wait for me and we can snuggle? I can’t wait to feel your arms around me.

 

I can’t hide the smile at her words. I always smile from every text message I get from her. A part of me thinks it’s pathetic that I only feel truly alive when Y/N sends me a text. Thankfully it’s only a small part of me. A part I will never listen to because with her I’m not a cruel demon, I’m her soul mate. I smirk at the phone as I think up a response.

 

 

I notice eyes on me. My demons are observing me carefully. I have to be careful here and not let slip that I have feelings. I text back hurriedly put on an air of boredom and frustration at being so rudely interrupted.

 

[Text]: Have fun with the girls, luv. I can’t wait to feel your body in my strong arms. Xoxo Your King and master.”

 

The demon in front of me unceremoniously clears his throat. I suppress a growl at him from taking my attention and thoughts away from Y/N. I sit straighter on my throne and my eyes bore down on my subjects.

 

I spend the rest of the time trying to listen to their concerns. Thoughts of Y/N keep flittering back to me. I replay conversations we’ve had in the last week. I see her smile back at me.

 

I sigh heavily counting the minutes until she’s home. I go through the rest of my day like a zombie until I’m off the clock so to speak. I type in the code and take the elevator up from hell to the penthouse apartment I share with my Queen. I lie down on the bed and lazily turn on the TV. Of course nothing intriguing is on. I decide to watch some of Y/N’s favorite shows wanting to feel close to her. I twirl my wedding ring around my ring finger thinking of her. As it gets later and later I start to worry until I feel a vibration. Looking down at the bed I see a text from you.

 

[Text]: Hey baby, so sorry. I know it’s 2 am. Sorry to worry you. I’m on my way home now.

 

 

I instantly calm down. Y/N will be home soon. I find myself getting excited and pouf in food thinking she’ll be hungry. Then I figure she might like a massage and something for the inevitable hang-on she’ll have in the morning. As her master and her husband I have to make sure she is well taken care of.

 

The second Y/N walks in I beam at her and make the whole rest of the night about her. Whatever she wants, she gets. We forget any dominance games, the night is hers and I’m here to serve her. I slowly take off her clothes and tell her to use me anyway she wants. She jumps on top of my cock and doesn’t waste any time spiraling towards her orgasm. I bite my lip wanting to come but I want her to take as many orgasms as she wants from me. She settles on four, my greedy little minx. I couldn’t be more proud. I beg her to come. She loves hearing me beg. A demon, the King of Hell begging his human to let him come. What girl wouldn’t like that, right? When she finally allows me to come, I growl so loud her eye widen. I laugh and flip her over kissing her neck. I hold her in my arms and she falls asleep almost immediately.

 

I feel so lucky that this is what happens every day. I get to wake up to her forever. I have this extraordinary woman as my wife. I get to shower her with love and make love to her every night. I didn’t know I needed this. I didn’t know this was what love meant before I met her. But I now I know I can’t get enough of her love.

 

I get an urgent text from a demon and I have to leave. I hate leaving. It takes everything I have to leave her and this cocoon of love into a world where I have to be cruel. I’m happy she doesn’t see me in hell, doesn’t live there. This vision of me is better than the one my demons see. I kiss her on her forehead and leave. Y/N was asleep when I left but ten minutes later I get a text from her.

 

[Text]: Baby? Where are you?”

[Text]: I’m so sorry, poppet. A demon made a mess I had to clean up.”

[Text]: Is it done, baby, because I can’t sleep without you. I tried. I know you have to work and I don’t want to be the wife that demands that her husband be with her all the time but I need you.

[Text]: Never apologize for your love, poppet.

[Text]: I’ve been tossing and turning and…

 

I appear before her and she stops texting and holds out her hands to me. I smile at her and grab her close turning her to her side. I moan when she rubs her ass against my already hard cock. My cock is always hard the second I see her or think of her. Really it’s pretty much always hard because she’s always on my mind.

 

“Sleep, little one, and when you wake up….”

 

Crowley grinds his cock against her ass.

 

“This is all yours.”

 

I felt her quiet down and slowly fall asleep again in my arms. I sighed and fell asleep as well, hoping I’d dream of her.

 

 

 


	8. Siberian Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Dean x Reader
> 
> Word Count: 1,817
> 
> Beta: The amazing @seenashwrite
> 
> A/N: This was written for @mrs-squirrel-chester’s Album Challenge. I choose the album, “Ash & Ice” by the Kills. This was written for the song, “Siberian Nights” which is the eighth song on the album. Smut and NSFW aesthetic below the cut. :) Slight angst due to the album chosen. The lyrics are in bold and the fantasy is in italics. Mild cursing. :)

(Aesthetic made by me)

 

 [Also posted on Tumblr](http://roxy-davenport.tumblr.com/post/156733106991/siberian-nights)

 

Dean-motherfucking-Winchester.

 

That man should come with a warning label. Side effects, top-to-bottom, from the panty-dropping smirk to the confident demeanor that just exuded sex. When he walked into a bar - hell, anywhere - all eyes were on him. Swagger was the name of the game.

 

He always knew how to make you laugh, and how to lighten the mood. You two had a the witty - sometimes sexy - banter thing going on, but he’d never acted on it. He just flirted with you, and then took some other girl home.

 

Uh - hello? You had needs too, thank you very much. Could you have picked up someone for yourself? Hell, yes. Still - you’d rather have Dean Winchester between your legs than some random dude, no contest, wasn’t up for debate.

 

But he never picked you. Just your luck, to be completely into a guy that wasn’t into you. So then why did he flirt with you? Did he really flirt with all of his friends? Were you in the proverbial friend zone?

 

When he asked you for girl advice, did he ever bother to notice how your face dropped when it worked, and he went home with another random girl? Maybe he thought of you as a sister. Wouldn’t that be perfect? Cue the sarcasm.

 

You were totally lusting after him. You stole glances at his body whenever you could. Who could blame you, really? Impossible not to, with those flannel shirts that fit him so well, displaying muscled arms that you were sure could hold you up while he plowed you into the wall.

 

You had hope. Eventually, it would happen. Dean would wise up and notice you. But what’s a girl to do until then?

 

Have shameless sex fantasies with about him, that’s fucking what.

 

Seemed about right. You could call it practice. A rehearsal, some mental exercising, for when Dean actually opened his mouth and asked you out.

 

Dean was asleep at a table in the library, head planted atop an open book. You and Sam had actually gotten him to do some research, apparently to the point of exhaustion. You were tired of research too, and your mind wandered to other pursuits.

 

Sam had gone on a coffee run. You had privacy. Was it risky thinking about having sex with Dean when he was so close by? Sure.

 

But what were you supposed to do, exactly, sleep? You were way too horny for that; so getting yourself off while watching him sleep seemed like a dangerously good plan.

 

And so you closed your eyes.

  

_You smirked at his still, silent form as you quietly got out of your chair and walked over to the kitchen. You looked through the contents of the refrigerator until you found a can of whipped cream. You placed a little on your finger as you walked back into the library._

 

_Dean woke up, startled at the noise that came from the can. Then his eyes met yours. You wiggled your eyebrows and slowly licked the whipped cream off your finger, those pretty green eyes now widening, following the path of your tongue._

 

_You placed the can on the table, and in one quick move, took off your shirt and bra, exposing your perky breasts to his lustful gaze. You winked at him while you picked up the can, now swirling whipped cream on your breasts. The cold sensation of the cream wrapping around your nipples made you shudder._

 

_Dean didn’t need to be told what to do. He was out of his chair, and fast. You laughed, wondering if even draping yourself in pie could’ve gotten him moving faster. But given the shit-eating grin on his face? Not a chance._

 

_Mouth open, he dove for your nipple. He kept his eyes on you as his tongue slowly wound around the taut nub, lapping at the whipped cream until there was nothing left. But how could one be sure?_

 

_And that man sucked and nibbled on each nipple for what had to be a good four minutes each. You started to arch your back and moan loudly. Dean’s arm wound around you, holding you in place while he diligently worked to get each bud nice and hard._

 

_The slight pain mixed with the pleasure from just his lips alone went right to your core. You bit your lip, suddenly needing him between your legs, now more than ever. His scruffy chin held traces of whipped cream, which you gladly licked off before bringing him into a passionate kiss._

 

_Dean was the first to pull away._

 

_“Better than pie.”_

 

_Just as you’d thought._

 

_“Now that’s a compliment.”_

 

_“I want your pants and panties off. I want to see what’s mine.”_

 

_His possessive tone made you moan as you slowly stripped, throwing the rest of your clothes somewhere in the room, because at this point, who the hell cared?_

_Dean walked behind you, his hand gliding over your body until it landed on your chin. He carefully turned your head back towards him. His gaze went from playful to Dom in seconds. His hand slowly moved down to your neck, pressing his body against you, holding you close._

 

_“Are you going to be a good girl? Good girls get rewarded.”_

 

_You shuddered as his warm breath ghosted over your skin, his low voice making you wetter. You nodded, not trusting your own voice. His other hand quickly ran down your skin to your ass, giving you one hard spank._

 

_“I believe I asked you a question. Are. You. Going. To. Be. A. Good. Girl?”_

 

_He Dean punctuated each word with a thrust, his denim-clad cock rutting against your bare ass. You whimpered at the friction. You desperately needed him, and he seemed to sense it, the bastard, because suddenly his body pulled away. And now you watched as he around you, settling himself into a wide leather armchair._

 

You weren’t even sure if Dean was kinky… and wait a minute, there aren’t leather chairs in the bunker. Why was your imagination adding inaccuracies? Was it to warn you?

 

Opening your eyes, you glanced over at Dean. He was stirring, but not yet awake. So you had a few more moments. Or, rather, your lustful brain wanted a few more moments. You’d just have to remember to be quiet.

 

_You slowly went down on your hands and knees and crawled over to Dean. His eyes got darker as he watched you glide toward him. You stopped when your head was between his legs._

 

_You looked up at him as your hands slowly moved up his thigh to his crotch. Your anxious fingers slowly pulled the zipper down, and you gasped, surprised and pleased to find he wore no underwear. Gently grabbing Dean’s thick cock, you freed it from his pants. You placed two hands on his knees, bracing yourself as you leaned in, wiggling your breasts against his length._

 

_You squeezed your breasts around his cock, slowly sliding it in and out of your cleavage. The sounds coming from Dean were turning you on so much, you knew you’d need new underwear. No way you could wear these again._

 

_Slowly, you moved your head down to take some of his cock into your mouth while your breasts massaged the rest of his length. You started with slow licks, just enough to rev his engine, but not enough to get him off. His moans increased, making you moan as well._

 

_The vibrations coming from your throat spurred him on, bringing him closer and closer. You could feel his cock twitch in your mouth; his orgasm was so near. You couldn’t wait to taste his cum, the fruits of your labor, when a loud sound suddenly broke you out of the fantasy._

 

 

Dean was awake and staring at you, mouth open. He had dropped a heavy book on the table. You looked at him with a dazed and confused look. That is, until you realized where your other hand was - down your pants.

 

Your thumb was pressed against your clit while two fingers were inside your pussy. You were so close to an orgasm you could practically taste it. Too shocked to do much of anything, you held his gaze. The tension was palpable.

 

Dean rose from his chair and walked over to you. He carefully took your hand out of your pants, his eyes never leaving yours. Easing his hand past the waistband of your panties, his thumb replaced your own, pressing into your clit hard, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. Watching your reaction carefully, he then slowly inserted three fingers into your waiting pussy. He bent over, his mouth was now next to your ear.

 

“If I knew you wanted me this bad, bad enough to moan my name and touch yourself in the library while I was asleep, I would have made a move a long time ago.”

 

You involuntarily drew in a sharp breath of air.

 

“The first time I ever saw you? I wanted nothing more than to rip your clothes off and fuck you into my mattress… but I didn’t want to put you in danger. I care about you too much to make you a target by claiming you. But, now?”

 

His head moved ever-so-slightly, a brief and barely-there nuzzle before he spoke again.

 

“Now I can’t resist you anymore. I need you. You’re mine.”

 

His. Dean Winchester’s. Fuck. Yes. That’s all you ever wanted. To be his girl. Hmm….Y/N and Dean. Damn, those names sounded good together.

 

And oh fuck, did he want you - badly, just as badly as you wanted him. Then there was one last whisper:

 

“Don’t cum til I say.”

 

You’d guessed right - Dean liked to be in control. But how were you not going to cum right away? Your breathing was hitched, and you were moaning his name so loudly you were sure that folks seven counties away could hear you.

 

Dean didn’t let up - he hadn’t said you could cum, and fuck was it hard to hold on. You could feel your orgasm coming. It was going to be a doozy.

 

You heard a rumbling sound nearby.

 

“That’s the Impala. Sam’s back, so I suggest you cum right fucking now.”

 

Then Dean looked you dead in the eye, that growling, dominating voice cutting right through you.

 

“And if you’re a good girl, I’ll reward you later.”

 

You were speechless, shocked, turned on and amazed all at the same time. You finally had him. You finally had Dean.

 

You leaned forward, nibbling on his shirt, trying to muffle your moaning. You closed your eyes as a warm, pleasant euphoria washed over you. It felt like it was never going to end.

 

You disconnected your mouth from his shirt, leaning back and looking up at Dean with a huge smile on your face, dizzy and reeling from the effects of your orgasm. You were still breathing hard, and it wasn’t calmed by his final action. Dean winked at you as he removed his fingers, licking your cum off them slowly.

 

 

“Hi guys! I come bearing coffee,” Sam called out from the stairs.

 

Dean-motherfucking-Winchester had liked you this whole time. And now you actually had a chance with him? This was going to be a long night. Coffee sounded like a great idea.


	9. That Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Sam x Ruby
> 
> Word Count: 2,154 Also on A03
> 
> A/N: This was written for @hideyourdemoneyes and @rareshipcreationschallenge with the NSFW kink, blood!kink and the pairing Sam x Ruby. My partner was @mausoleumdean (why won’t Tumblr let me tag you?) This was also written for @thethingwewrite’s Friendship and Relationships Challenge with the pairing Sam x Ruby. The prompt was, “Great now we are screwed.” This was also written for @mrs-squirrel-chester’s album Fanfiction Challenge. I chose the album, Ash & Ice by the Kills. This was written for “That Love”, the ninth song on the album. Trigger warnings: obviously blood and SMUT, angst and a dysfunctional relationship. You’ve been warned.

[Also posted on Tumblr](http://roxy-davenport.tumblr.com/post/153182838158/that-love)

 

Sam opened the creaking door to the warehouse. He knew he couldn’t keep this up. He knew he had to leave Ruby but he couldn’t. She was his disease, his drug, and his obsession. Maybe after a hit he’d be able to walk away. Or maybe he’d just need another. All he knew was that he couldn’t think straight, couldn’t function without her blood. He needed the power, the taste of her blood in his mouth. Sam’s hands were shaking and he was walking like he was drunk, swaying from side to side. He was exhausted, hadn’t slept more than four hours a night for the past month. Everything hurt.

 

Sam was careful as always to check that Dean was sound asleep before he left the motel to be with Ruby. He didn’t need the lecture from an older brother, who just didn’t get it. His brother would be fine alone in the motel. They had just finished a hunt and were leaving the next day. Sam would definitely be back before dawn. He could just sneak in and act like nothing happened. Dean would never have to know. In fact, why should he? Sam was old enough to decide for himself what was good for him. This power gave him the ability to kill demons. This made him a stronger hunter. He was sad Dean couldn’t be happy for him. Dean just refused to understand. He was too damn protective for his own good.

 

Sam moved around the warehouse slowly staring at Ruby hungrily; his eyes dark filled with longing. He grabbed Ruby’s arm hard and threw her to the wall. She grunted on impact, the wind knocked out of her.

 

“That’s right, Sammy boy, I’m a demon. Be rough with me. Show me your strength. Show me what a hunter can do. Make it hurt.”

 

Sam’s grip got tighter on Ruby’s arm. She moaned at the painfully tight grip he had on her.

 

“That’s the best you got, Sammy boy?”

 

Sam shoved her back against the cold wall as he pressed his body against hers. His hand moved from her wrist to wind around her throat, not enough to cut off her air but enough to make her know he could at any moment.

 

Ruby smiled back at him. He pressed his lips to hers and bit her lower lip, drawing blood. She gasped and his tongue dove into her mouth licking every corner. Just as quickly as he started the kiss he ended it, making sure to lick her bleeding lip. He closed his eyes and a shudder passed through him. Sam smirked as he saw Ruby breathing fast and her lips puffy from his harsh kiss. Sam’s voice was harsh and commanding. Ruby may be the demon but he always demanded absolute control over the situation. Ruby gave it willingly knowing that in the end, she was really in control. Because his addiction was getting him closer to Ruby’s ultimate goal, she let him do whatever he wanted. Truth be told, she loved these moments watching his careful, meek, concerned facade wash away and the dark dominant underbelly show through. She loved this Sam and this Sam was only hers. No one else got to see his darker side. Sam was hooked on her and he couldn’t leave if he tried; she had him right where she wanted him. Sam loved the feeling that Ruby gave him, the freedom and the power he felt with her. This love was fucked up and it would end, eventually. Dean would probably find out and grab Sammy back from the brink. But that’s what made all these moments beautiful and precious.

 

“Ruby give it to me NOW. Please. I need it. Need it so bad baby.”

 

Sam’s tone varied from needy to commanding. He was wrecked more than usual. Dean was getting suspicious so they had to wait longer than usual. It was two months since he last got a taste and he couldn’t wait another second. Ruby’s eyes turned black and Sam licked his lips. Ruby took her knife and cut her collarbone sucking in at the pain of the cut. Sam’s eyes darkened as he stared at the blood. He descended on her within seconds, lapping at the blood, sucking more of it of her supple body. Ruby moaned as she felt his lips on her cut. She grabbed his hair and kept him there to make sure he got his fill. He sucked harder and harder trying to get more blood. Ruby moaned at the pressure on her collarbone, almost painful. Sam stayed there for minutes until he could feel it working. He felt stronger, more alive, as if he could take on anything. He slowly stepped back from Ruby, blood dripping down his face. He stared at Ruby who still had black eyes that bored into his. Sam grabbed Ruby’s hair and crammed his lips on hers. She moaned at the taste of her own blood on his lips. He released her when he needed to breathe and she lapped up the rest of the blood on his face cleaning him.

 

“Such a good girl you are for me.”

 

Sam pushes Ruby back against the wall. He grabs her neck this time adding a bit more pressure than the last time. Ruby moans at the harsh treatment.

 

“Only me, right Ruby?”

 

“Only you, Sammy.”

 

“Good girl.”

 

Without any ceremony Sam and Ruby ripped their clothes off. They had to rush, always had to rush because Dean could never find out about this. Sam had no idea how he could ever face Dean. He couldn’t quit Ruby but he knew that if Dean found out, he’d have to and it would break his heart. He would be a mess with no hope of recovery or at least that’s how it felt. So everything had to be fast, rushed. It made it more special. It was a whirlwind of emotions that Sam could feed off of for weeks.

 

The very second that Ruby was naked Sam grabbed her by the waist and flipped her over pushing her face into the cold concrete. He growled by her neck. She let out a breathy moan.

 

“Mine,” he mouthed on the skin of her neck.

 

“Yours,” Ruby whispered.

 

He grabbed her wrists and tied them with his belt tightly behind her back. She moaned when he made it extra tight, it cutting off her circulation.

 

“Stay right there if you want my cock. Good girls get fucked. Bad girl get punished.”

 

Ruby swallowed thickly and nodded back at him keeping her face against the wall. Sam smirked as he bent down to get Ruby’s knife. Ruby stayed by the wall but turned her head slightly to look back at Sam. Sam rushed back to her side, his hand of her hip, the other holding her knife.

 

“Do you trust me?” He inquired breathlessly.

 

It seemed like a simple question but he held the very knife that could kill her. He could end her right now if he wished. She willingly gave him power over her knowing he would love it and he did. He grabbed her by the hair roughly.

 

“When your master asks you a question, you answer it.”

 

“S-sorry sir. Yes, yes I trust you.”

 

“Good girl. That wasn’t so hard…Are you ready, baby? Cause I sure as shit can’t wait much longer.”

 

“Neither can I, sir.”

 

His finger left her waist and dove into her pussy feeling her pleasantly wet. He took out his fingers and licked them.

 

“Mmmm. You taste divine Ruby. And I know you feel like heaven.”

 

They both chuckled darkly at that comment. Without another word he thrust all the way inside her. She gasped at the sudden intrusion of his large cock stretching her walls. His head slumped down on her back. One hand holding her waist with a vice grip while the other was on the wall by her head holding the knife. Sam barely waited at all until he was pounding into Ruby. Ruby ‘s high-pitched moans, Sam’s growls and skin slapping together were the only sounds in the room. Sam thrust all the way out and all the way in on every thrust. Ruby loved the rough treatment and Sam literally couldn’t hold himself back. He angled his cock to hit that spot that made Ruby scream. He liked hearing her scream. Sam slowly took his hand off the wall and dragged the knife down Ruby’s back. She shivered slightly from the cold metal against her skin. Sam chuckled as he slowly made a cut on her shoulder. He grabbed her hair the knife now against her throat.

 

“I could kill you right now.”

 

“Don’t tease me Sam. Love you too,” she said breathlessly.

 

“That’s my girl.”

 

Sam’s tongue dove out as he licked her shoulder. His licks got more insistent as he started sucking at her shoulder draining her of blood. He kept pounding into her the entire time. Mewls left her throat. She was so close to an orgasm she could taste it but she knew better than to come without his permission. When he had his fill, his eyes turned black as he dropped the knife suddenly and used his powers to throw her down on the ground. He crouched down hovering over her as he entering her again. His hands wound around her throat as he looked her in the eyes. He smirked when she arched her back and whispered his name,

 

“You look so pretty when you’re wrecked Ruby. Now be a good girl and come for your master.”

 

“Ssssaaaaaaam!”

 

Sam watched her come undone licking his lips before he came deep inside her with a growl of her name. He closed his eyes as the blood and the orgasm working their way through his system. He closed his eyes against the sheer power. Ruby gave him small kisses on his neck. They didn’t notice Dean. They were just content to hold each other in sheer bliss. Dean moved silent grabbing the knife and crouching down to where Ruby was. Sam’s eyes immediately met Dean’s.

 

“Don’t you dare Dean.”

 

“Don’t I dare? What the hell, Sammy. Look at yourself. Drinking Ruby’s blood, using demon powers and fucking her like some kind of animal. Where is my brother?”

 

“Right here.”

 

“I don’t think so Sammy. She’s destroying you. Why you can’t you see that. You’re fucking addicted to her and it needs to stop.”

 

“I love her Dean,“ Sammy growled.

 

Dean’s face fell. He loved her? He loved Ruby?

 

“Fuck! “ He yelled as he threw the knife away and grabbed the top of his hair.

 

The power ebbed with Dean’s intrusion, Sam’s focus shifting on the fallout. Sam slowly slid out of Ruby and tried to find his torn clothes along with Ruby’s. Dean turned his back fuming and confused about how to get his brother back. She sent him a forlorn look. He eyed Dean who still had his back turned. Sam ran to Ruby and held her hands.

 

“Great. Now we are screwed,” Ruby spoke matter-of-factly.

 

“Let me just talk to Dean reason with him and–.”

 

Ruby kissed Sam with a gentle longing.

 

“Goodbye Sam. I’m not going to make you choose because we both know it would never be me. Even though I am the only way to kill Lilith, my blood, my power is the answer but he’s your brother. Family always comes first. I enjoyed our moments together, I really did. Goodbye, master.”

 

Ruby blew him a kiss before she disappeared leaving him her knife.

 

And just like that Sam’s world came crashing around him. He was numb and barely registered Dean’s worried gaze, barely registered when they got back to the motel. Everything felt numb and cold. He needed blood, he needed that high that only Ruby could give him. He needed Ruby herself, her body, her smile, her love. He felt so cold and alone in this motel room. If only Dean hadn’t found out, he would still be in Ruby’s arms safe and powerful.

 


	10. You Got Me Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words: 913 (Hilarious but short, it happens)
> 
> Pairing: Crowley x Reader
> 
> A/N: No smut, but fluff towards the end. This was written for @mrs-squirrel-chester‘s Album Fanfic Writing Challenge. I picked the album, “Ash & Ice” by the Kills. This drabble/short fic was written for the song, “Impossible Tracks,” which is number 10 on the album.

[Also posted on Tumblr](http://roxy-davenport.tumblr.com/post/152519305095/you-got-me-good)

 

Where the fuck were you? You told Crowley you’d be back in three hours. It had been three hours and thirty minutes. The hunt was supposed to be an easy one. Normally he would just pop in and see what was keeping you. But you were hunting with your brothers, the Winchesters, and they didn’t know about the two of you. You were worried they’d disown you if they knew you were living with Crowley much less in love with him. So Crowley had to be benched, waiting on the sidelines, worrying about what was happening. He had respected your choice to remain silent but right now he desperately wanted to disobey your wishes. But if you were OK, you would be furious with him for doing so. But if you weren’t…. No, he was not going there. I mean he was very good friends with Billy. She would hate to bring you back but he would offer Billy anything to do it. He knew just the thing to offer. Enough! You weren’t dead. Why were you late? What if something happened to you? What if you got hurt? Oh, if those boys hurt you, I’ll skin them alive, brothers of yours or not. I can’t just sit here waiting? Can I? This is infuriating! The Winchesters do have a bad habit of killing their accomplices. What if something happened to you? Something I could have prevented had I acted now?

 

Crowley walked back and forth continuously. He turned on your playlist wanting to be close to you at this moment, to connect with you. He sat down on the bed, his head in his hands. His tapped his feet for a few moments. The music did nothing to calm his nerves and he growled, throwing a lamp at the wall. He quickly poofed in a glass of Craig and downed it, then another, and another. He closed his eyes trying to calm his nerves before he opened his bedroom door and spoke to the two guards outside.

 

“Leave me now and search every hospital for Y/N. Don’t go anywhere else, don’t get help. Don’t bloody well tell anyone where you’re going – just GO.”

 

The demons left in hurry as Crowley closed the door behind him nearly breaking it off the hinges. The ten minutes his demons were gone felt like agony, thoughts of murder and torture for the Winchesters ever present in his mind.

 

“We didn’t find her in any of the local hospitals.”

 

“How about Jane Does? Or the aliases I gave you.”

 

They both gave him blank looks.

 

“The post-it in your pocket.”

 

The demon on the left looked down at his pocket pulling out said post-it.”

 

“Dude, look at these names.”

 

Crowley’s face paled and he groaned.

 

“Um…I don’t see Jane Doe? Who’s that?”

 

Crowley looked at them enraged. His eyes full-blown ready to murder them on the spot when you burst through the door.

 

“OMG. I am sooo sorry I’m late baby. The hunt was trickier than we imagined.”

 

“Bloody well knew it. If those wankers hurt you so help me …. Come on in.”

 

“So yeah. I got a little cut up but Sam got pretty hurt. He stepped in front to save me.

 

“The Winchesters actually saving people. Well, she is family. Hmmm. I suppose I have to thank moose now.”

 

“The big galump. Gotta love my brothers. I’m OK. I didn’t just want to leave him bleeding, I kinda had to help and I smelled disgusting so I took a shower. Trust me there was nothing sexy about me in that moment.

 

“I will always love you, sweet, grime, blood and all. Y/N you got me from the start. You got me good and nothing will ever keep us apart.”

 

“And I feel the exact same way about you handsome. I sent you a text.”

 

Crowley froze, the demons looking between you and Crowley. He slowly took his cellphone out. It was dead. Y/N sent me a text and I forgot to recharge my phone, really? He sighed and tried to control his anger as he crammed the recharger cord into his phone. He was about to laugh at how very banal this all was. You slowly stepped into the room and read him like a book. He was beyond worried. You could tell even if he was in profile. He was wound tight like a bow. You put down your bag on the King-sized bed and watched him.

 

“Didn’t you have blonde hair last time?” One of the demons questioned.

 

“Um a while ago. I have highlights now.” You answered confused.

 

Crowley whirls around to look at his demons.

 

“You didn’t even know what she looked like? How stupid are you two, honestly?”

 

He kills them on the spot without a second thought. You moved quickly and threw Crowley’s back against the wall nearly attacking his lips and pouring your affection for him into that kiss. After a while he moved your head away staring in your eyes. He was confused, lustful, still tense, nervous and residually angry. But the kiss worked. That was always the best way to calm him.

 

“I love you Crowley and I’m so sorry I worried you. Let’s tell the boys tomorrow so you can be at my side and know were I am whenever you want. But that goes both ways so you better remember to recharge your damn phone.

 

“Deal.”


	11. Sharpening My Blade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sharpening My Blade
> 
> Pairing: Casifer x Crowley
> 
> Word Count: 619
> 
> A/N: This drabble is Casifer’s internal monologue regarding Crowley’s escape. For those not in the know, Casifer is Lucifer in Cas’s body. This was done for @mrs-squirrel-chester ‘s Album Fanfic Writing Challenge. I picked the album “Ash & Ice” by the Kills. This aesthetic and drabble was written for the song, “Black Tar” which is number 11 on the album.

_ _

(Aesthetic made by me)

 

[Also posted on Tumblr](http://roxy-davenport.tumblr.com/post/152696449356/sharpening-my-blade)

 

_“How dare Crowley! No one stops me! OK, well, the morons in plaid did but that was bad enough. That mangy, idiotic, bottom-feeding charlatan got away! From me! What the hell! Am I losing my touch? I mean I know I’ve been in the cage for years but really? And to think that if the hand of god wasn’t kicked, the bastard was going to use it on me. How dare he! I’m Lucifer! My father was god. And he is here only because of my creations, because he sold his soul to my demons. MY demons. You’re welcome Crowley for a remarkable large cock. That would be the thing he sells his soul for. Three extra inches, really? Such a pathetic human and an even more pathetic demon. He should know better than to try and take my throne from me. The throne was given to me by GOD himself and Crowley thinks he can take it? He’d better fucking hide. He should learn to accept his role and not test me. He’ll get what he gets.“_

 

Casifer was furious. He needed to find Crowley and show him what happens to people that dare to mess with him. He needed to make an example of him in case his other minions got the same idea. If Crowley thought his life was bad before being Casifer’s little doggie, he’d be horrified to see what Casifer had planned now. Casifer would invent such lovely ways to torture Crowley if he could only find him. It seems the annoying usurper really knows how to hide. But my men will find him. I don’t care how long it takes. They will find him! Oh the things that Crowley told me while I tortured him. _It took so long to teach him to obey. Such lovely little secrets he spilled. I know all of Crowley’s haunts now. He was such a good doggie. Not at the beginning but towards the end. His hair was so soft and his skin… and that mouth…._

 

Casifer wasn’t even paying attention to the demons in front of him. He didn’t care. His _raison d’etre_ was gone. His punching bag ran away and now he had nothing to distract himself from the monotony of these horrid meetings. These peons were always demanding attention, help, something. They couldn’t figure out anything without him, like lost puppies all of them. _Crowley was such a good puppy. Maybe I could make a new puppy? What? With these morons? Please. Crowley will be a hard puppy to replace._

 

The entire time that Casifer was thinking, the demon in front of him was droning on. After a minute, Casifer rolled his eyes and addressed him.

 

“Shut up,” Casifer growled. “I can’t hear myself think. Hello … internal monologue here. Important thoughts rattling around in here. Go. I could care less what you all have to say unless you’re here to tell me that you found Crowley?

 

Everyone stands up straighter at his tone but no speaks up.

 

“As I thought. How about you all…Go. Find. Him. NOW!”

 

The demons proceed to run out the door but he made the demon who was boring the pants off him stay right were he was. Casifer needed to blow off some steam. The demon turned to him confused. Casifer’s smile turned into a large Cheshire-cat like grin. He sat there on the throne enjoying the screams from his minion wishing, imagining that it was Crowley. It was all over too quickly as the demon fell to the ground dead. Not as much fun as Casifer needed right now but it would have to do until he found Crowley that is. It was a good pick-me-up though.


	12. Echo Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Crowley x Reader
> 
> Word Count: 2,053
> 
> Beta: @seenashwrite Mwah! Thanks soon much hun.
> 
> A/N: Crowley fluff, panic attacks. This was written for @mrs-squirrel-chester’s Album Challenge. I chose the Album, “Ash & Ice” by the Kills. This is inspired by the song, “Echo Home” which is the twelfth song on the album. This was also written for @letsgetoutalive’s Mental Health Awareness Challenge with the prompt, panic attack.The reader’s negative thoughts and Crowley’s telepathic conversations are in italics. The reader has a panic attack and Crowley is there to help.

 (Not mine, found this on google)

 

[Also posted on Tumblr](http://roxy-davenport.tumblr.com/post/156780109731/echo-home)

 

You were wounded. You had barely made it out alive. But you were headed home.

 

You were driving on auto-pilot, only one thing at the forefront of your mind: your ineptitude. It didn’t matter that you’d saved the kidnapped couple, that you’d rid their tiny town of monsters. You just couldn’t shake it, the thought that Sam and Dean would be handling this so much better. And not just the hunt - these feelings, these doubts mangled your thoughts in the aftermath.

 

You should’ve remembered that you were just one person, and they were two. You should’ve remembered that they had years and countless experiences on you. You should’ve. But this was a dark day, and on these days, none of that mattered.

 

_"Dean was right. You had no business going off on your own. You fucked up. Yeah, you all researched for this hunt. But you were the one thinking you were ready, that you could do a solo hunt. You’ll never be ready. You’ll always be the little annoying sidekick to the Winchesters. You shouldn’t delude yourself with ideas of grandeur. You should turn back now and go get a real job. Now that you’ve messed up, you’ll have to tell the boys, and how do you think they’ll react? They’ll kick you out. You’re a liability. You’re useless. Yes, you took out three monsters but only by the skin of your teeth. They need people they can trust. They’ll yell at you and be mean like everyone else. They’ll see you like the fragile little eighteen-year-old girl you are.”_

 

Tears were streaming down your cheeks. The negative thoughts in your head were too loud today. You had to pull over and get out of the car. Your body was heating up. You couldn’t drive like this. Your hands were shaking as you opened the door. You gulped in cold air, hoping it would cool you, but still you remained too warm.

 

_“No. No, this cannot be happening now. I just need to focus, get back to the bunker and go straight to bed._

 

Sweat dripped down your back and your pulse raced. You felt like you were having palpitations. There was a pressure mounting in your head. You tried to move but you were unsteady, dizzy even. The negative thoughts kept coming and coming. One thought stood out above all the rest.

 

_“You are a horrible hunter and you don’t deserve to hunt with the Winchesters.”_

 

Your breathing was labored and with each passing second, it got harder to breathe. It was as if something was blocking your airway. What was it? You couldn’t make yourself breathe. And if you couldn’t breathe, you’d be dead soon.

 

What a cruel twist of fate, to survive the hunt just to die now, here, on the side of a road. You weren’t getting enough air. You felt faint. Your legs were wobbly and you slumped down onto the pavement, gravel digging into your knees. You started to panic even more as you wracked your brain, trying to figure how to save yourself. Driving back to the bunker was out. The boys coming to you was also out. They were too far away and while they could assuage your fears, afterwards there would be a barrage of questions and guilt and emotional outbursts. You could call an ambulance but being a hunter, insurance was an issue. And it would take them a while to find you on the road. You could be dead by then. You needed help NOW. Your only real options were Crowley and Castiel. If you called Cas, he would just alert the boys and he’d be fussing and hovering over you. Then there was Crowley. He had given you his number after all. You did have a huge crush on him though and were a bit nervous calling him but he was your best option. Taking a deep breath you texted Crowley.

 

Crowley was listening to demons prattle on when the theme song for Rocky and Bullwinkle went off. He had programmed that as a text message alert for you, Sam and Dean. Curious, he fished out his phone, ignoring the looks from his demons.

 

When he noticed it was you, he happily clicked ‘read’ but was confused and slightly nervous when he saw the only word written was “help.” He didn’t waste any more time, and appearing in front of you in a second. He looked you up and down, noting a large gash on your side and lacerations to your back. You were clearly in distress, and gasping for air, but he had no idea what was going on. He entered your mind and picked up on two phrases you kept repeating over and over again, _“I’m dying! Help!”_

 

“Stay here, Pet. Getting help.”

 

Crowley had never experienced panic attacks when he was human, and his demons would be of no help. He wasn’t likely to ask the Winchesters for help, so he did the next best thing, possessing a doctor from a nearby hospital. He rifled through the doctor’s brain until he found information on panic attacks, then left promptly.

 

Crowley materialized in front of you. He slowly crouched down to your level. Then looked at you, keeping his gaze soft and his tone gentle and reassuring.

 

“Okay, love. The first thing you need to do is relax. I know that seems impossible right now, but I’m here. The King of Hell is here and there is no way I am letting you die. You just feel like you’re dying. You hear me? I assure you that you are, and you will be okay. Now you trust me, right?”

 

You nodded.

 

“Then let’s take a breath of that cool night air. You must be so hot. Let’s get some air in your lungs. Breathe in as slowly and deeply as you can. Concentrate on each breath, imagine the air going into your mouth, traveling down your throat and going into your lungs. Imagine your lungs expanding with the air. See the air going into your lungs. Now try that again. Keep imagining the air going inside your body.”

 

Crowley reached out and held your hand squeezing it to remind you that you weren’t alone in this.

 

“Close your eyes and think about nothing else but my voice. The voice of someone who cares about you deeply. I don’t give my number to just any girl. Now I want you to count back from 102 by threes. I know it seems a strange thing to ask, but you’ll just have to trust me. And we’ll do it together.”

 

You nodded again.

 

“102.99.96.93.90.87.84.81.78.75.72.69.66.63.60.57.54.51.48.45.42.39.36.33.30.27.24.21.18.15.12.9.6.3.”

 

By the time you got to three, your breathing was already starting to improve. You were beginning to understand the purpose of the counting. Your mind had no time to focus on what was freaking you out. Counting backwards took all your concentration. Your heart was still beating fast and your breathing was still a bit labored, but better.

 

“Good work dove. Now let’s talk about why you had a panic attack in the first place.”

 

“I went on a hunt. Shouldn’t have been anything out of the ordinary. And it turned out there was a couple that needed help. But instead of one monster, there were three. I didn’t notice it until I was already in the building. I snuck in, weapon in hand like the guys taught me, and I thought everything was fine - til I turned around, and saw I was surrounded. I made it out alive. I saved the couple. But I nearly got myself killed.”

 

“It was three to one, and you won?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I’d say that was a good hunt, no? Most hunters can’t take on three of anything by themselves. They’d call for backup and if they couldn’t, they’d be dead. But you, darling, you survived! That’s very impressive, love. You should be happy about that.”

 

Your cheeks started to flush at his praise. It was impressive, actually.

 

“Is there more?”

 

“Yes. It was my first hunt. Sam and Dean were hesitant about letting me go but said yes because they thought I could protect myself. And then I almost died! I make a horrible hunter. I’m just a liability to them. I don’t deserve to hunt. Next time I might actually die. I’m useless.”

 

“I’m going to stop you right there. You’re not useless, Pet. This was your first hunt, and you didn’t die - that’s the takeaway message. You saved the couple. You can’t compare yourself to Sam and Dean. They’ve been hunting since childhood! Look, you have only being hunting for one year and you are doing a great job. It’s their fault for not at least waiting in the car. This was your first solo hunt and you didn’t have backup. That’s on them.”

 

He gave you a few moments to think about what he’d said before speaking again.

 

“What would you tell a friend to do if she was feeling this way?”

 

You sat there and thought for a bit. You imagined your bestie in your old life coming to you with this.

 

“I’d tell her what you said. That she made it out alive and that it was only her first hunt. That she’ll get better as time goes on.”

 

“Who knows, maybe the first hunt Dean was on, he messed up and had to have daddy dearest clean it up for him. No one is perfect when to comes to hunting. Hunting is a skill you learn and acquire over years. No one is born being able to hunt other creatures. There is always a learning curve, dove. The Winchesters taught you well, though. You survived, after all. But if you’d like, I can try and find you a martial arts trainer or a combat trainer. I can even arrange a meeting so you can speak with my surveillance team. They are very best at tracking, better than human hunter. My demons won’t be happy but I’m the King so they’ll just have to accept it.”

 

The truth of his words struck you. It was like a cloud was lifted in your mind and the truth was coming out like sun after a rainstorm. It hunting was a skill, you simply needed more practice.

 

You were beyond touched and a bit shocked that Crowley was offering his assistance, his resources to you. You had to admit - it just might be a good idea. You could learn surveillance and combat skills from demons, directly from the enemy. You could learn how they think. That could be more beneficial than Crowley might even realize.

 

Crowley could see the wheels turning in your mind. Your breathing was close to normal now. He’d actually helped you. He was ecstatic that he could help you. That you trusted him enough to believe the words he was saying to you.

 

The demon was beginning to realize how deeply he cared for you, and it was killing him to see you broken like that on the ground. He desperately wanted to hold you. But he had one last question to ask.

 

“What do you want to do now?

 

“I don’t want to go back to the bunker just yet.”

 

Crowley tried to hide his smirk. You wanted to be with him. He would keep you safe from everything. This was his chance to take care of you and show you just what being with him could mean.

 

“I don’t think I’m ready to face the Winchesters and their questions. I think I want to take a little break from hunting. Be around people I care about. And maybe pick up a few skills from your demons, gain some confidence before I go back.”

 

“People you care about like whom?”

 

“Like the man who, I’m guessing, dropped an important meeting to attend to his human. Thank you, by the way.”

 

“You’re my human?”

 

“If you’ll have me.”

 

Crowley didn’t wait another second to grab your face and plant his lips on yours. His kiss was deep and insistent. With a flourish, he snapped his fingers, teleporting you both to Hell. He held you close in his arms as you drifted off to sleep, exhausted but relieved. This was going to be one hell of a break from hunting.


	13. Visions of You and I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Cas x Crowley
> 
> Word Count: 2, 295 
> 
> A/N: This was written for @thethingwewrite‘s Friendship and Relationships Challenge The pairing was Cas x Crowley with the prompt, “It’s a never-ending love story.” This was also written for @hideyourdemoneyes and @rareshipcreationschallenge with the SWF kink, kissing with the partner, @rodiniaorzetalthepenquin This was also written for @mrs-squirrel-chester‘s album Fanfiction Challenge. I chose the album Ash & Ice by the Kills. This was written for “Whirling Eye”, the last song on the album, lucky 13. ;) This was also written for a fourth challenge, @whispersandwhiskerburn’s We Got a Fic For that Challenge with the prompt, “Come at once, if inconvenient come all the same.”- Sherlock. This is just fluff with some light smut and light angst. :)

[Also posted on Tumblr](http://roxy-davenport.tumblr.com/post/153178777247/visions-of-you-and-i)

  

Why was hell always so boring at 2 AM? Crowley sat on his throne flipping through the contacts on his phone not even paying attention to the demon in front of him.

 

He missed working with Castiel and truth be told, he actually worried about the angel. His grace was faded, he needed Crowley’s help finding Lucifer but no he said he could do it himself. Cas’s guilt was literally going to be the death of him and Crowley refused to sit on the sidelines and watch him die.

 

Crowley missed the closeness, the purity and innocence of Castiel. Everything lost its color when he left. Their interactions were tense now filled with sarcasm and bitterness. He had no idea how to get through to Castiel. Crowley typed the message before he even knew he did it.

 

Crowley [Text]: Stop being stubborn and let me help. I want to find Lucifer as much as you do. He had me licking for the floor, for bloody sakes. No one wants him more than I do.

 

Oh how much he wanted to say, “I miss you and I love, you idiot. Answer your bloody phone.” But he knew Castiel would never respond to that. He knew the angel cared about him deep, deep down somewhere in that angelic body of his. The trick was finding a way to make it come to the surface.

 

If Castiel did answer, Crowley could show him how he felt. But what if Castiel refused to give in to his feelings for Crowley. Well, that would make things awkward. Could they still be an effective team against Lucifer? Crowley was in hell, literally and metaphorically. Crowley sighed and slowly looked up from his phone. The demon was still in front of him babbling. Sighing deeply Crowley started to pay attention to the last of what the demon said, nodding his head, as if were actually listening the whole time. It was soul projections. Whatever.

 

Since Castiel left, Crowley has kept tabs on him making sure he survived everything. Crowley was his silent savior. He wanted his lover back and with each passing minute was growing more worried. Where was the banter? Where was the hate? Why wasn’t he answering? Maybe he was in trouble?

 

Crowley closed his eyes trying to connect with Castiel’s mind. And surprisingly he could. The angel must be quite weak for him to be able to do that. Usually Castiel blocked Crowley from entering his mind. Crowley focused on Castiel and teleported without a care for Hell’s court. He appeared in a warehouse with a badly beaten Castiel at his feet, three angels gearing up to kill him.

 

Crowley rolled his eyes, appearing behind the angels. He slowly slid the angel blade down his suit to his hand quickly killing them one by one. He bent down to Castiel, his face holding worry. He caressed Castiel’s cheek.

 

“Heaven’s welcoming party I assume.”

 

“How did you know where-.”

 

“I always know where you are, love. You really have to be more careful. You have quite a few enemies now. You should open your eyes and see who your friends are.”

 

Castiel opened his mouth to speak but closed his mouth not quite sure what to say.

 

Crowley teleported both of them to an extravagant penthouse apartment with a gorgeous view.

 

“I know how much you hate hell so we’re on earth in a penthouse. Only the best for you, feathers. Now let’s have a look at those wounds, hmm?

 

Crowley wasn’t an angel and couldn’t heal Cas. Cas would heal himself but it would take a while. Crowley moved slowly over to the bed giving Castiel enough time to move or tell Crowley to leave but he didn’t. Crowley ripped off Castiel’s shirt and pants.

 

Castiel was taken aback at gesture but the second Crowley’s hands were on his body, his blue eyes shined brighter and his breathing hitched. Crowley noticed and smirked down at him.

 

Crowley carefully cleaned and tended to Castiel's wounds. When Crowley was satisfied they were as clean as they could be, he snapped off his clothes and got in bed with Castiel.

 

He gently turned Castiel over to his side so Crowley could snuggle his front to Castiel’s back. His arm wound gently around the angel’s stomach so as not to exacerbate the wounds.

 

Despite himself, Castiel moaned into the touch. He had fought so hard to rid himself of Crowley, not to care anymore but truthfully he loved him too. He felt safe with Crowley. He felt like he had an equal partner who saw only the best in him, forgiving and understanding his faults and misguided deeds – someone who made him smile and was always there when he really needed him like tonight.

 

In these moments Castiel felt happier than he ever thought he would feel. He slowly turned around in Crowley’s arms and kissed him. Crowley moaned into the kiss and deepened it kissing him back hungrily. Castiel’s mouth was so warm, his lips hard and chapped just like Crowley remembered them. Crowley could hear Castiel’s heart beating faster and faster the longer they kissed. Castiel opened his mouth to give Crowley more room and access to every corner of his mouth. Crowley gently touched his tongue with Castiel’s, gently caressing before quickly demanding dominance and Castiel quickly giving it. Crowley ran his hands down Castiel’s hair before balling them into the back of his hair, driving his tongue even farther into Castiel’s mouth. Castiel could taste the faint taste of Craig on Crowley’s tongue. Crowley broke away from the kiss and stared into Castiel’s eyes. It was very obvious how they felt for each other in that moment. No lies, no pretense, just mutual attraction and love for each other ever-present on their faces.

 

Crowley gently stroked Castiel’s lower lip with his thumb. He rested his head on Castiel’s forehead as his hand caressed his check. They breathed in and out in tandem, just content to lie next to each other. Castiel closed his eyes biting his lips at the gentle friction their bodies created. His cock brushing up against Crowley’s made him moan again.

 

Crowley catching on rather quickly, made a bottle of lube appear on the bed in front of them. But before Crowley could open it, Castiel stopped him shaking his head.

 

“Let me please. You’ve done so much for me and-.”

 

Crowley kissed him again, just a quick kiss. There was so much Crowley wanted to say but didn’t have the words to say it. Maybe it didn’t need to be said. He could see that Castiel wanted him, that he felt the same and that was all he needed to know.

 

Castiel slowly rubbed the lube into his hands before gently wrapping both hands around Crowley hard throbbing cock. He wasted no time as his hand speed up impossibly fast. He wanted to thank Crowley and apologize for all the hurt between them by giving him this orgasm. He didn’t want Crowley to wait for it; he wanted to give him an orgasm now not later.

 

They were never good at saying how they felt, choosing instead to express it this way. His hands worked in opposition to each other. One hand went up while the other went down his shaft. Crowley made a breathy sigh. Castiel smirked before taking one of his hands up Crowley’s cock to massage the very sensitive head. Castiel carefully pressed his finger in watching as Crowley closed his eyes breathing fast. Castiel’s finger danced around the ring of the head of Crowley’s cock. Castiel watched as Crowley shuttered from the stimulation. He hand continued its descent to the underside of Crowley’s cock, massaging there a bit before reached down further to massage his balls. Castiel’s other hand continuously pumped Crowley’s cock mercilessly fast. Crowley moaned Cas’s name several times over. Smiling, Castiel brought his other hand back onto Crowley’s cock picking up the pace when he saw Crowley’s eyes turn red. Castiel knew he was close that was always Crowley’s cue, his red eyes signaling his impeding orgasm. Castiel kept going faster and faster until Crowley made a low growl, his body tense. Castiel bent his head down and whispered into Crowley’s ear, “Come at once if convenient. If inconvenient, come all the same.”

 

“WHAT?” Crowley shouted, the red now gone for his eyes, confusion written all over his face. He looked down at Cas who was staring at his cock.

 

Castiel licked his lips as he placed Crowley’s cock in his mouth. All the protest Crowley had in him was lost as he felt Castiel’s lips surrounding his cock. Castiel’s warm mouth taking his impressive length all the way to the back of his throat was all the incentive Crowley needed. Crowley came hard, screaming Cas’s name. Cas in turn moaned around Crowley’s cock extending Crowley’s orgasm. Castiel didn’t need to breath so his mouth never left Crowley’s cock. Warm ribbons of cum spurt down the angel’s throat, which Castiel gladly swallowed. When he was sure Crowley had finished cumming he looked up at him with wide eyes, happy he could make his lover feel good. The salty taste of cum still of his lips as he moved to kiss Crowley. Crowley moaned into the kiss tasting himself on his lover’s lips. This wasn’t a heated kiss like before, just a gentle loving kiss reassuring each other of their feelings. As always after they played, Crowley pet Castiel’s head. Castiel in turn leaned into the touch, happy his lover was happy. They lay like that just enjoying the quiet moment, just basking in their fleeting orgasms. After some time Crowley moved his head towards Castiel’s. His hands reached out to cup Castiel’s face kissing him gently, carefully as if he was concerned about hurting Castiel due to his injuries. They were still not completely healed.

 

Castiel very gently nibbled Crowley’s bottom lip. Crowley tensed not sure what Castiel had in mind. What did any of this mean? He hoped it meant they were back together but he couldn’t be sure. He hated feeling this way so emotional and raw. As always he tried to cover his feelings and mask them in sarcasm, never asking the questions he really wanted to know the answers to.

 

“We really need to work on dirty talk with you? If convenient come? Really, feathers? You’re politely telling the King of Hell when to come. Nice try, angel.”

 

“There you go with your status as King. I am a seraphim. A messenger between the arch-angels and other angels. I am-.”

 

“When is the last time you went up?”

 

“That does not take my title away from me.”

 

Crowley throws up his hand and he sees Castiel’s eye brighten with anger.

 

“When is the last time you ruled Hell because last I checked, Lucifer was in control.”

 

“And whose fault was that?”

 

They remained silent again. Not sure what to say. Crowley didn’t want to get in another argument unless it was about what they were to each other. He hated arguing but he was so stubborn that everything as an argument. Castiel does something nice and he mucks it up. Castiel was the first to break the silence. He spoke up softly.

 

“I love you, too, Crowley. It’s a never-ending love story with us. We leave each other; we get back together how many times now? We fight, we make up, we have sex and it feels like we’re connecting to one another. Maybe we’re meant to be together? I need you tonight. I just don’t know about tomorrow. I care about the Winchesters and humanity. I am an angel, Crowley. I save people, you kill them. You’re the King of Hell but I love you anyway. I tried so hard to just walk away and not come back and now I don’t ever want to leave your arms.”

 

Crowley felt his heart break and swell at the same time. He knew that eventually one of them would get hurt. They were on opposite ends of morality; they were doomed from the start. No truer love would he ever feel than with Castiel, come what may.

 

“I have missed you terribly. I know I’m always starting fights. I’m sorry about earlier. I love you too Cas. I have no idea what will happen to us in the future so you’re right let’s take it one day at a time.”

 

“I’d like that very much. Thank you for saving me, Crowley.”

 

“Always, feathers.” Castiel gingerly moved slowly so his body was to Crowley’s front. With his injuries he needed to rest and so he fell asleep for a short time in Crowley’s arms content and peaceful.


End file.
